


More

by rosymamacita



Series: The Apocalypse Part 2 [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Nightblood - Freeform, Polis, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, a moment alone, kiss kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: Clarke hasn't gotten to talk to Bellamy at all. She left science island to go to Polis, but the meeting started before she could see him. When he joins the gathering, he won't meet her eyes, she knows something is wrong.When it's over, he grabs her wrist and pulls her into a closet, where they talk, finally, and he isn't happy with what she's done. But it's time to get it all out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this sucker did not want to let me end it and now i'm mad at it. sorry for the awkward summary. here. take it. you deal with it now.

Clarke made it to the conclave before Bellamy did. She was looking for him in the crowd when she got there, but he didn’t show up until after the meeting had already begun. She couldn’t go over to talk to him like she wanted. She saw him, filtering in with Harper and Octavia and Monty. She wondered if Kane had had them on an errand, but there was no chance to ask Kane, standing next to her, before he was already speaking for Skaikru. 

Clarke joined in when it was demanded, but for the most part, they only needed her for her presence. The great Wanheda, there to represent the power of Skaikru, dressed in that heavy old coat and her shitkicker boots. But not really doing much at all. Clarke had even managed to add in some semblance of the hairdressing crown they’d always had her wear as Wanheda in Polis. She’d started strong with a french braid at the top of her head, but kind of lost speed with a few more little additions and just tied it off behind her head. She couldn’t be bothered. She still wasn’t sure why she had to go for fancy hair anyway.

Clarke tried to catch Bellamy’s eyes across the hall, but he stood with his feet braced and his arms crossed over his chest, scowling. She thought she would catch his eye a couple of times, but each time she looked over, he was looking away. The muscle leaping in his jaw. 

A pit opened in her stomach. Something was wrong. And for the rest of the meeting, she couldn’t get him to meet her eyes at all. 

When the meeting finally broke up, and the ambassadors and coalition leaders were milling about, Kane and her mom having serious discussions about things that were just housekeeping and not anything she needed to worry about, a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her through the crowd.

“Bellamy!”

He didn’t respond, just lead her through the crowd and into the hall and down it into a small room with only a high open window, up near the ceiling, letting in light. The door closed behind them, although she could still see light through the cracks, and hear people passing in the hall.

“What did you do?” He asked, his voice gravelly and dark.

“What?” she shook her head confused.

He raised her arm and pulled her sleeve back up to her elbow, exposing the small bandage still wrapping the puncture mark, and the black veins running from beneath it.  
His gasp was ragged. He yanked off the bandage to reveal the puncture mark with the black scab healing it over.

“What were you thinking?” he asked hoarsely, still staring at needle mark.

“I couldn’t, Bellamy. I couldn’t just use Emori as a test subject. I couldn’t. I needed to save who I could save. I needed to save her.”

“So you were going to test yourself,” He looked up at her finally and his eyes were heartbroken. It made her heart break, too.

“I bear it so they don’t have to.” She shrugged.

His chest swelled. “So you leave me to bear it alone. So you leave me.” He pushed her back until she was pressed up against the wall.

“What?” her breath left her. “No!”

“You were going to leave me, Clarke. Again. You said we’d see each other again, but you were going to…” His words failed him and he gaped at her.

“I had to, Bellamy. I couldn’t hurt her like that. I couldn’t sacrifice her. Murphy needed her. It was wrong.”

He closed his eyes and the fire went out of him. His head dropped to her shoulder, pressed heavily against her clavicle. Her hand rose without meaning to, to run through his hair, to soothe him, as he rested against her. She could feel his breath puffing on her chest. 

“I’m sorry, Bellamy, I couldn’t become that. You would have done the same thing. ”

“Clarke…” his voice was broken. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.”

“You’d be fine, Bellamy. You’ve been fine before.” She tried to make light of it. 

His head came up and she was started by how soft his eyes were.”I wasn’t fine, Clarke. I need you.”

The words shot straight through her. She was suddenly so very aware of how close he was. How tall. How strong. “You need… me?”

He shook his head a little, like she’d just thrown him. He’d thrown her. “Of course I…you think I don’t need you?”

She wished she could step back a little, but he still had her pressed up against the wall, his hand wrapped around her wrist. “I mean, I know, of course, I know you do. We’re partners. It’s hard running things and we work great together so of course you need me.”

She didn’t realize she was staring at the floor until he put a finger to her chin and lifted her face until she met his eyes. He shook his head, made a little mouth like he didn’t want to say it. “You. I need you.” He watched her carefully. She didn’t know what he saw in her face. She didn’t know what she was feeling. It was if the world had stopped, all that was real was him, his hand around her wrist, his fingers on her chin, his warm brown eyes staring into hers.

He must have found something, because his lips quirked into a brief smile and he brought his hand up to comb through her hair.

He took a step back and Clarke felt a loss, she wanted him back, but he didn’t go far. Instead he drew her arm up and began tracing the black veins.

“God Clarke, how could you?” He sighed heavily, as if it hurt.

“You would have done the same thing.”

“You wouldn’t have let me, would you?”

“Not if I could help it.”

“You mean not if you could sacrifice yourself instead.”

“Like you did with Emerson in the air lock.”

“Like you did with the City of Light.”

“And you with Mount Weather.”

He dropped his head again. “Is this who we are?”

Clarke nodded although he couldn’t see her. “This is who we are. We sacrifice ourselves for our people.”

“What do we get out of it, Clarke?” he asked. His voice was so soft, the whisper of it trailed down her spine and his fingers fluttered over the delicate skin of her inner arm. 

She felt his breath there first. Then the soft brush of his lips over the puncture mark. 

“I want something, Clarke.” The words spoken an inch above her skin.

“What?” she wasn’t sure the word made it out of her mouth, but he must have heard.

“This,” he said, and kissed the inside of her arm, where the veins branched like a charcoal river under her skin. He kissed down her arm until he reached her palm. He looked up at her then, kissed her open hand and she curled her fingers around his jaw, wanting.

“Bellamy…”

“Can I?” His voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

She didn’t wait for the rest of his question. She stepped into him and slid both arms up over his strong shoulders, to wrap around his neck, tangle in his hair and bring him down for a kiss.

It felt like coming home. Clarke didn’t remember what it felt like to be home anymore, but this was it, Bellamy surrounding her. Him, rough and smooth and warm and alive under her fingertips. His scent filling her head. His lips against hers. The way he pressed her to his chest, and held on so tight.

He trailed kisses to her neck, burning hot, and she clutched at him, for more. He whispered in her ear, “if this is all we can have, that’s okay…”

She felt tears. “No, Bellamy, no.”

He froze and pulled away and she knew he thought she meant something different. She grabbed him and held on, pulling him closer and tugged on his ear with her teeth. She felt him shiver. “It’s not okay, just this.” Her voice was low and throaty. “It’s not enough.” He pulled away this time and she let him. He looked at her quizzically. Shook his head a little.

She flexed her hands on his chest. It was easier to look at his chest than his eyes. She ran her palms over him and sighed. “It’s not enough. I want more…”

“More?”

“More. Everything.” She felt her face crumple. She thought she could hold it back. But no. She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I love you.”

“What?” he blinked and his eyebrows shot upwards.

She gave a half laugh, because of course. “You don’t believe me?”

Bellamy tucked a lock of her fallen hair behind her year. He gave her the half laugh in return. “Not really.” And her stomach started to twist, except his smile grew, broad and straight, and full of joy. “You love—“ he breathed out, “—me?”

“Bellamy…” A tear leaked out. “Yes.”

He wiped the tear from her cheek with his thumb and nodded. “Okay.” The smile slowly slipped away as his gaze roved over her face. “Okay. Yeah.” He cupped her face and his thumb ran over her lower lip. She opened her mouth and kissed it. Tasting it just the tiniest bit. Salt and metal and Bellamy. He was nodding again, stroking her face. “I love you, too, you know that right? You had to know that.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He tipped her head up to him and kissed her, firm and sure, and real. Finally. “Do you know it now?” he asked against her lips. 

She hummed and pulled him back into her, opening for him. Losing herself in him. Losing herself in them.

They kissed. And it was everything. She slid her hands under his shirt and felt the warm velvet of his back. The muscles flexing as her drew her nearer. Nothing else mattered but him, his lips, his large hands delving under her clothes and making her shiver, making her yearn into him. He had rucked up her shirt so he could kiss her breasts, when they heard someone on the other side of the door calling. 

“Wanheda!” they said. “Wanheda!”

Clarke and Bellamy jumped apart, panting. They stared at each other, lips swollen and faces flushed. The voice outside the door moved on, still calling. “You are needed in the council chamber. Wanheda?” The voice faded as it moved down the hall.

Bellamy raked his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. She wanted to do that. She wanted to touch his hair. Instead she straightened her shirt. “Duty calls.”

He nodded and rearranged his own clothes but before she could head out the door, he grabbed her wrist and held her back. “We’re not done here.”

She immediately pressed up against his chest. “Oh no, Bellamy. We are far from done. We’re just getting started.” She caught his eye and held it, significantly. “Okay? This is not enough. I want it all. I want you.”

He breathed out on a growl. “Clarke…”

“We’re going to survive, Bellamy, and we’re going to get each other. This?” she put her hand on his chest. Felt his strong heart beating. “This is worth fighting for.”

“We’re not going to survive, Clarke,” he kissed her before she could argue, and pulled back with a grin. She loved his grin. “We’re going to live. This is worth living for.”

She couldn’t help but smile back. She nodded. 

“Wanheda!” the voice came again, this time more anxious. 

“You’d better go.”

“Come with me.” She hung onto his bicep. God, she loved his bicep. She wasn’t going to let go.

“Hell no. I’m not the Wanheda. I don’t have to sit through that.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, “But you’re my partner, and we do this together. And if you come with me, then I’m guaranteed to get you alone as soon as it’s done, no matter what happens.”

He smirked. “So impatient, princess.”

She grinned back at him. “You have no idea.”

“Wanheda!” the voice was nearly panicked.

She rolled her eyes and tugged on his arm. “Come on, Bellamy, let’s go.”

“Ugh, I’m going to regret this,” he said but let her pull him along as she opened the door.

“Not for very long, because I’m going to make it up to you.”

He snorted. “How?”

She stopped him right in the hall, all the grounders and arkadians rushing to and fro and she pulled him down into a passionate kiss, getting to twist her fingers into his curls and press up against his hard chest as he bent over her, his arms locked around her waist, not letting go. He was a rush to her system. He was making her want to go into that room, with all the angry people, just so she could hold onto him the entire time, no matter what they thought or what they planned or what was going to happen next.

Because this was real and this was what she had and it was worth it.

“Wow,” he said when she finally let go of him. “So I guess we’re going public.” He nodded at the crowd staring at them, regardless of tribe.

“Nothing left to hide,” she said. “No time left to waste.”

“I wasn’t expecting this. All I wanted was a kiss.”

“Really?”

“No. I wanted everything.” He dragged in a broken breath, pain passing across his face.

“Well we’re going to get everything. We’ll fight the apocalypse to get it.”

He nodded. “Worth it.”

Then she took his hand and lead him back into the fray.


End file.
